


Highrise

by LegendofMajora



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendofMajora/pseuds/LegendofMajora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An odd way to speak around so many subjects at once, starting from a phone call from Izaya and Shizuo's reluctant cooperation. </p><p>It's a long way down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highrise

Everything is wrong.

"I wasn't intending on being proven anything, Shizu-chan," he breathes like the last breath he'll ever take. It certainly feels that way, high-rise on top of a skyscraper or just his apartment building. It's late evening by the time the call connects. Another ten minutes before the phone conversation isn't one-sided yelling insults.

Shizuo sighs or snorts from the other side. Harder to tell with all the background noise in Izaya's ears. _"Does it even matter?"_

Izaya hums to himself, peering over the edge once again. "Maybe not, Shizu-chan. Would it ever in the first place?"

 _"No."_ Really, not that bad when it rings in his ears.

Rocking on his feet and easing the spikes of adrenaline in his calves, Izaya replies. "Then you have your answer." The tone isn't as bitter as maybe it's supposed to be, watching the empty skyline and a city of lights and sunshine. Not in this corner, because this isn't Ikebukuro. That's twenty minutes away, and counting breaths to seconds per shudder he's running out of time. He has all night, though it shouldn't matter soon enough.

Shizuo growls, _"Why are you even calling me in the first place?"_ As if the answer isn't apparent to him, then Izaya must applaud the beast for being this callous. Not that it really matters much in the place of not wanting to. Izaya doesn't care much at all for these sorts of affairs. _"And how much do you want me to pay you to shut the fuck up already? You're wasting my time."_

Izaya laughs; a bitter sound that falls stiff and hollow. Maybe even Shizu-chan notices. "I don't need your meager salary, Shizu-chan. We both know how much you make." Over the hiss of _bastard_ and _I'll kill you—_ really, he can't be bothered with such a simplistic threat, the informant chuckles to himself. After all, the adrenaline still makes his feet sting in an uncomfortable feeling, being this high up above everything else. "And you didn't even have to answer me. So why would you, Shizu-chan?"

The line falls silent and Izaya almost wants to laugh. His lungs feel too empty for it, so he settles on a dry sort of smirk that fades with the lights of streetlights penetrating the thickly polluted air. Everywhere smells of the city, and the scent of Shizu-chan is nowhere to be found here. Perfect.

 _"Dunno."_ Painfully honest, the stupid beast. _"If I didn't, you'd just keep harassing me until I smashed your head through this damn thing."_ Which sounds hilariously childish and just the same way Shizuo speaks, thinking not at all before speaking.

"That would be something to see." Toeing the line of the edge, peeking down when Izaya isn't afraid of heights. Not much of anything, so the feeling of being too close is only a dull acknowledgment. "Though Shizu-chan can't fit anything through a phone. That's not how they work."

Shizuo growls once again, frustrated and Izaya finds himself amused by Shizuo's silly antics of trying to be human. It'll never work, because not even Izaya will allow him to be human. _"Shut the fuck up. I know how a fucking phone works."_

The informant hums, "No need to be ashamed of being an idiot, Shizu-chan. Not many monsters in lore are as stupid as you."

Skyscrapers seem too tall from this height. Too thickly concentrated in Shinjuku with too many flashing windows reflecting lights. Neon signs coat the roads like those hateful lollipops he knows Shizuo has a strange penchant for.

 _"Fuck you too. I hate you, you goddamn flea."_ Shizuo growls even lower, vibrating through the phone with the threat. Almost predictable enough to laugh at when he's just so stupid.

But then, doesn't that make him stupid too? No—that's a terrible idea. Inconceivably so. "You're a monster, Shizu-chan. Too predictable. There's not much of a wonder why you can't ever be human."

 _"Again with this 'monster' bullshit?"_ Still unpredictable, then. _"What the fuck do you think I am, deaf? I heard you the first time and that was more than enough. Besides, if I'm a monster, then you're a demonic insect."_

"Not even worth the sole of your shoe?"

 _"Oh, fuck you._ " The strange grin on Izaya's face falters, brightening and dimming like a flickering sign with burned-out light bulbs. Pavement below is harder to see from up here, stories above the ground and if he steps back, he may as well fall.

Izaya ponders the rate of surviving, chancing it in his mind. "I didn't know Shizu-chan was religious. Angels and demons now with insects? What kind of religion are you in?" Last time he checks and the moment he does now, the reactions of sneering at his own joke are spread too far apart. This time is the sort of silence that lumps in the throat when having a dry mouth and too much to think of to actually put into words.

 _"Seriously, flea, get a hobby. You're pissing me off."_ Which isn't like that's not already obvious.

Izaya tips his head back, eyes fluttering unintentionally when the adrenaline surges. An addictive feeling that latches onto the speed of his heart, sucking him dry at the throat. Feet swaying makes it even worse to imagine where he is.

He feels like flying. "I have many hobbies, Shizu-chan," he mentions cryptically, talking himself into circles while his blood starts to rush. "One of them involves irritating monsters."

 _"I can tell."_ Gruff and angry, just as always. In place and ready to be forgotten, which is exactly what Izaya wants to hear last and at the same time despises the lack of change. Monsters can't be unpredictable in everything. _"So, you gonna tell me why the fuck you're calling?"_

"You said it yourself, it doesn't matter." Izaya hums softly, gooseflesh rising on his arm when a breeze rolls over his skin. It almost feels like the touch of flesh on his, maybe calloused fingers and hands careful not to break him. But again, only a distant dream or nightmare of his that hasn't crept away into the night yet.

Shizuo grumbles under his breath and if Izaya listens closely enough it sounds like grudging acknowledgment for starting this in the first place. Then again, not like he's going to care much for a high-rise escapade. Currently for which there is no escape plan but down and tipping just an inch or two forward, phone dropping and arms outstretched. _"Wasting my time, flea. Get to the damn point."_

What is the point now, anyway? What purpose is there in calling Shizu-chan for this meaningless notion of having a note? Not like he really needs to be like his humans—so ugly and beloved that he can't help but adore how they turn themselves into monsters. Monsters attempting to be human are a fascinating and disgusting sight, and it shouldn't be because they remind him at times of himself.

Standing on the edge of an apartment building, raising a free hand to feel the nip of wind on his fingers. No one can see him now. "What point is there, Shizu-chan?"

 _"Fucking idiot, with you there's always a point. Now hurry up."_ If he doesn't know any better, it would sound like Shizuo is concerned—and that's such a disgusting, grotesque, and bloated lie. Even Izaya, lapsing in judgment for a bit too long, still standing at a tall point and tilting his head back, he's not sure how he can come to such a conclusion. Sickeningly false as it is, his stomach curls in protest.

The informant cracks an eyelid, blinking slowly over the blinding flare of lights. "My, my, Shizu-chan is eager for what he already expects." And this should be the end of it.

Shizuo, however, can be smarter when he's not supposed to be and it makes Izaya wince, almost dangerously. _"Don't fuck with me with your mind games. Just tell me what the fuck you're doing."_ Does he notice the high-rise view of Shinjuku, glittering and paved with good intentions like the road to the Christian Hell? He's never been a religious man in this lifetime, to be fair.

"Nothing, Shizu-chan." This should be it. Hang up the phone—do not breathe, do not _choke_ on a swallow of spit that goes down the wrong way and hear an exhale of heavy breath from the other side. Do _not_ expect anything in return for this silly little mistake. Simply put, Izaya has made too many to keep track of and now he can see how well they serve him.

 _"Disgusting flea,"_ the beast huffs and Izaya can feel the anger, lighting up the adrenaline with a flame like burning alcohol. Pungent and strong, but the warm feeling pooling in his stomach persists. He hasn't felt this alive in such a long time it's almost hard to believe that this is where it should be the exact opposite. Well, a lot of things with Izaya are meant to be should be and not actually be, though those plans tend to get ruined with a blond beast in the way. More often than not, and even now.

"Oh, is Shizu-chan starting to care about me?" Stop, _stop_ saying these things. "I'm flattered, truly. However I just can't return those feelings of yours, Shizu-chan. I suggest you find a girlfriend as monstrous as you are, or even perhaps your own brother until you remember that you can't feel _anything_." And it's not supposed to be scathing and angry but it is, so imperfectly twisted and it's his own fault for letting this game play out longer than having a hand of plays.

Shizuo growls loudly, snarling and the phone in his hand whines over the line when his fingers tighten to the breaking point. Izaya feels the same pressure on an old healing arm, fingers decidedly broken after the first and last time Shizuo holds his hand to break him. When he closes his eyes and he's not careful, he can still feel hot flesh over icy cold fingers and warming his rings.

_"You know what, fucking piece of shit? I give up with you. Don't you dare fucking say anything about my brother, got it? Or I'll come kick your shitty ass for you until you're nothing but blood on the sidewalk."_

Sounds tangible enough. Funny how Izaya laughs, just unable to help himself when the whole notion of blood on the sidewalk means Shizuo is finally learning, one way or another. Though it's far too late, and simply the wrong time to mention now. Nothing is worth it on top of a building and glittering beneath, unlike in lore where the heavens above glimmer with warm lights and inviting wisps of clouds. Down below is where his ugly humans and deformed monsters are, waiting for the watching patience of their god.

They'll never love him. None will love him back. "You talk an awful lot for things you don't do, Shizu-chan."

 _"So do you. You're the most talkative bastard I've known, and you never say a thing."_ Oddly prophetic and too specific to sit uncomfortably. Looking over the skyline is a dark void of clouds where the city lights don't reach.

Izaya doesn't speak this time, blames it on the fact that it's a little chilly out and the hair on his arms is rough and erecting with the shiver that wants to curl in his spine, tuck itself between his vertebrae. All the things he wants to do, yet settles for looking down at the most because harder decisions are easier than this. Everything comparably is easier when looking down, deciding fate in the soles of his shoes and his jacket may be on and sliding off one shoulder, but there isn't any warmth his body retains. The rest of it is empty, which is too close to him.

 _"What do you want me to do about it? Ask you what you're doing?"_ Shizuo sounds strangely quiet now, as if giving up the ghost with a sigh and Izaya wants to laugh until the ache settles in nicely between his ribs and picks him apart, piece by piece. The very least that can be done for him when it's most sincerely over for this game—he refuses to lose.

"How considerate," he pauses and swallows once, twice, three times before he can clear out his throat. This really isn't like how the game is played. "But I don't need pity, you monster."

 _"Wasn't offering._ " Shizuo snorts like it's the most natural thing in the world. To him, this is just another part of their game. Good. _"What the fuck are you doing, Izaya? You usually don't ever bother calling me."_ Which is true, because they've done this a few times in order for Izaya to piss Shizuo off when he's bored enough that he can get a good workout around Ikebukuro, where he inevitably goes. It also helps for stopping the unnecessarily elevated heart rate from chest to throat, pounding beneath the skin.

"Maybe I'm just bored, ne?" That _is_ the truth.

Another noise of frustrated disappointment crackles in Izaya's ears and travels through his veins, trembling beneath the skin and he makes no move of notice. The situation is too delicate for if he moves, he falls.

In more ways than one.

 _"What, you lonely now? Desperate enough to call me in the throes of boredom?"_ Big words—Izaya chuckles when he doesn't mean to and the sound that comes from Shizuo is a nice little accepting grunt of a chortle, not really appreciative of the delicately put situation they have. More on Izaya's part, mainly because he doesn't, can't, and won't know.

Izaya calms himself, composing and drawing himself up like a string to wrap around his finger. Idly he raises his other hand to his face, glancing at the fingers fleshy and pale when extended, empty and cool from the air breezing past. "You've been hanging around Shinra far too much, Shizu-chan." To anyone else this would be a routine call to a lover but that's all wrong when they're nothing like that. A few little laughs don't differentiate between dying and staying dead at the risk of another taking life from them.

 _"At least I have friends."_ Ouch.

Silence rings in Izaya's ears like the buzz of an empty television and a large apartment with empty walls. Empty, empty, empty. Interesting how it feels now, instead of before. Although managing a lot more, everything is starting to feel different when involved, beginning with the first break of his left hand and unable to write or type for weeks.

 _"Seriously flea, what the fuck is going on?"_ Shizuo clearly doesn't want to say it but he clears his throat and still growls like a beast. _"Where are you, and what the fuck are you planning?"_ Izaya can almost imagine the wheels turning in the stupid beast's brain, imagining some stupid scenario of the informant prancing around Ikebukuro while the monster sleeps.

"Ah, don't worry, Shizu-chan." Izaya's voice lowers to a murmur and his eyes are open now, shuffling feet toward the edge a little in less than an inch with courage or cowardice. Whatever to make him feel the same rush that spikes from his feet, toes of his shoes hanging over empty space. "I'm not in your precious Ikebukuro, so don't bother."

The indignant noise is almost funny. Then again, not. When it rings clearly through his bones Izaya cringes at the purpose of this call in the first place. It's not right. Nothing makes sense in calling a beast to bother him, high above the city and still not reaching the dreary clouds above.

 _"Doesn't fucking matter. You reek all over the damn place."_ Izaya isn't sure whether or not to be flattered, imagining what Shizuo's face of a pinched expression and angry brown eyes behind sunglasses changes to, if at all, standing on a high-rise ledge. Only one way down. _"Don't fuck with me, Izaya. Get it over with and spill already."_

Why, it's an interesting color of blood and flesh to picture on the ground. Where it begins Izaya isn't too sure of it himself, questioning the disease or disappointment of his own mind with the darker veil pulling over his thoughts. Slowly creeping forward, refusing to give up no matter how much he analyzes himself and when he comes back to Shizuo, it disgusts him more. "Shizu-chan wants me to spill my guts? How unromantic, Shizu-chan. Go watch soap operas and learn your lines, ne?"

 _"Shut the fuck up already."_ Clearly the blond brute is more than exasperated when his pea-sized brain can't handle much more than simple conversation. Straining himself is just too easy to make the beast do, with the best part being it doesn't take much and almost a sort of boring that way when it's too easy.

"Shizu-chan is really no fun." Again with the cryptic words, decoding to cipher the strange words that slip over his tongue from the gathering in his throat. It bobs, the mass, with each swallow and his tongue feels far too dry to have much more fun.

More silence. Awkward comfortable frustrating infuriating worthless and momentary silence. Pauses enunciated by breaths, until Shizuo has to break the surface in order to breathe when he can just simply hang up instead.

_"...What's with the angels and demons talk, flea? You mentioned it earlier, but you're not religious at all. Still a bastard who kisses his own ass."_

Instead of remarking that Izaya has no intention or ability to do such an act, the earlier mention surprises him for moments caught off guard though he shakes it off easily enough. Shizuo must be bored tonight after all. What he does is feel a breath shake between his lungs and flutter against his ribcage—again, he must be going soft after all.

"What about angels, Shizu-chan?" Just to entertain himself a little longer. The conversation is running dry when his heart thumps in his ears. "Deciding to try and be one when you die? Well, I've got some bad news for you: beasts will never be anything, even if there is an afterlife."

Shizuo keeps stalling, Izaya realizes, and it's almost touching. _"You're creeping me the fuck out, flea. What the hell are you talking about an afterlife for?"_ Almost.

Surprising because Shizuo isn't taking the bait to the taunts, maybe perhaps Izaya is getting a little rusty at the end of the string. He really should hang up now while he has the time and lack of patience. "Nothing interesting to your protozoan brain." His fingers shudder and he tells himself it's just the wind. "Goodbye, Shizu-chan."

 _"No you fucking don't."_ Almost immediately after Izaya says the words, forcing a pause from pressing the 'end call' button. _"You called me, eleven in the goddamn evening, to piss me off. You're gonna explain right now, or I'll haul your ass back here and make you give me a reason you're doing this."_

"What if I told you that it was just for amusement?" Izaya bites at his lip in an old habit renewed, boredly glancing down between his feet and wondering what wings feel like. He'll never have them, but it's an interesting thought that lifts his heels.

A snarl. _"I don't fucking believe you. You don't call me without a reason—hell, you don't do anything without a reason. Just stop wasting my goddamn time so I can beat you up already."_

"Oh? And why would Shizu-chan care?" Oops; caught.

 _"You fucking piece of shit flea,"_ Shizuo grumbles over the phone and it sounds like he's at the point of tugging a hand through his messy bleached hair, head tipping back and eyes closing. Izaya knows all the movements; all the motions. So clearly played in his mind that it bothers him when he tries to sleep and knows nothing will come, starting and lingering in the palm of his left hand. _"Because something tells me you're not doing this for fun. You sound like you're having a heart attack."_

Interesting choice of words. "I'm perfectly healthy, Shizu-chan. It's you who eats a diet worthy of getting a cardiac transplant. Maybe even bariatric surgery, if the doctors could manage to cut away all that fat of yours." He's pushing all the buttons without a care, eyes closing again and frustrated because he wants to hang up and his finger lingers over the damn button.

 _"Don't play dumb."_ Ah, Shizu-chan. Ever the unpredictable unsightly beast to ruin _everything_ and still never care. _"You know what I mean."_

"Explain then." Izaya presses a little more, waiting for a reason to end the call. His own fingers curl and maybe they tremble, he won't admit to himself for watching his own reactions when the mind of his is cooperating, for once, with his body to keep himself alive. Adrenaline and testosterone, a deadly combo, riding through his veins and pricking the flesh to the pound in his heart that is there, calming to a quieter beat when the breaths he swallows are not enough to satisfy his lungs. They feel like water balloons, tightly clenching shut and ready to pop.

Shizuo makes strange noises and this one doesn't sound any better than any of the other animalistic noises. Maybe a grunt, growl, snarl, or hiss. Shizuo has never been human. _"I don't know, you sound so fucking stupid right now. Like you're about to do some stupid stunt."_ Wise or stupid enough with animal instinct to know so easily and to not mention last week's little incident turning into something bigger. It's a terrible mistake, really.

Izaya laughs, bitter and heavy. Shizuo, he realizes, knows too much for his own stupid sake. "What did I do, Shizu-chan?" They both know what he's done and they know what Shizuo has done and there are no words to make up for a past mistake of being too cautious. Wanting things to go back to the way things have been and forget all about it, though Shizuo is boring enough to be too much of an idiot to let it go.

 _"You know what happened. Don't fucking act like it didn't."_ Bloodstains on the ground when Shizuo throws something and manages to get one lucky shot, crippling Izaya's right arm and the stranger part is when the entire thing starts bleeding. Shizuo notices the trail of blood, Izaya holding onto the stinging limb when he thinks the brute can't see and it's almost too much blood at once to make Izaya dizzy enough to stay put for a little more than a second. Plenty of things are said then and what surprises Izaya is that Shizuo stops playing the damn game because of one little mistake. Easily bandaged, nothing to worry about.

The strange part is when Shizuo grabs Izaya, by the same bleeding arm, refusing to let go no matter how much Izaya squirms and struggles to dash off. The brute cheats by clipping him again with something much, much lighter and it's a complete insult that forces Izaya onto his knees when it hits him. In one afternoon of not saying much, Shizuo mainly murmuring to himself with punctuated angry outbursts, they both learn something that isn't meant to be shared in the first place. Like the scars running down Izaya's forearm are not always accidents and the fingernail marks in Shizuo's wrist are from trying to control himself far too often.

They really need better hobbies.

But then again, maybe it could be the purpose of the call. Well, one of them. There are plenty of reasons Izaya doesn't want to ever see Shizuo's face again and sometimes it has to do with his own and the way his left hand still aches despite the fact that Shizuo broke it a year ago.

"And what was it supposed to mean, then?" This is dangerous. Appalling and deadly and not worth the angry thoughts—this isn't supposed to exist between rivals. Not something complicated and more so than the reason why they hate each other in the first place. _Reasons,_ he corrects himself.

The next brush of air is a little stronger which makes it fair since the fall is coming so soon. End of summer clips of air, warm and chilling when left alone with them for too long. Shizuo is far too quiet to continue this on, so Izaya will just—

 _"Don't you fucking dare hang up on me."_ Shizuo sounds angry, terrifyingly angry to anyone who isn't Izaya and doesn't bother with being afraid. There are much more horrifying things than a blond monster. Gods themselves, in their own power left unchecked, are much worse. _"Fuck, Izaya, where are you?"_

He doesn't want these things to exist. A simple line of hatred would be better to cope with and easier to handle when his thoughts escape him. All these noisy things are bothering him far too much and the past months to weeks, who knows, adding Shizuo to the equation makes it more complicated to solve by himself. Mainly he can't stand that _stare_ when Shizuo is looking right into him, knowingly after seeing the scars on his forearm, some of them are from high school days and some of them, the purple ones, are fresh. They all bleed anyway, regardless of age, and when Shizuo stares he looks too deep and Izaya hates that he can't figure out the stupid blond beast.

It would be better if he would just _die._ "Stop pretending, Shizu-chan." Acrid sour tastes, forget this happening and struggle with moving closer over the edge where he's been the entire time. This time is physically above everyone else and the feeling is empowering, if not vulnerable right when Shizuo can manage to try and strike a defense—wait. Never mind that; too stupid to be true.

It has been only thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of calling, and eleven-thirty is on the dot, ticking away silently. Everything he tries has been in vain, which is _okay_ as long as he hangs up on the stupid brute now.

 _"Son of a fucking bitch,"_ Shizuo acts like he's got Izaya all figured out and he's so far from the truth there is no reaction to speak of besides hollow amusement. _"Izaya, I swear, if you are fucking_ thinking _about it, I will haul your ass down and end you myself."_

"And what makes you think I'm doing anything in particular?" He just has to invade Izaya's space, call him by his name, pretend that nothing fazes him like it doesn't faze Izaya into pretending anything at all.

 _"Because I fucking know where you are. I can hear sound of cars down below, and you're not that fucking hard to guess."_ Shizuo is too good at this simple little game. Time to hang up now— _"Step away from wherever the fuck you are, go into your apartment. Don't fucking do this right now, Izaya."_

Ah, yes. The reason why Shizuo is acting so strange. Izaya thinks he has it figured out for once, and this may as well confirm it. Besides the entire spread of ribbons from blades on his arm, skittering when he twists and reflecting light at odd angles when Shizuo demands Izaya tell or breaks his arm out of his socket while he's at it. Because Izaya is good at giving up some things for others when Shizuo won't have a little lie so he might as well say it then and get a look of pity—it's not pity though. Nothing similar to pity and he _hates_ Shizuo so much.

The palm in his hand, just a careful touch, is too suffocating. "I'm not doing anything stupid, Shizu-chan. What if I'm just in the outskirts of the city?" Shizuo can't tell him what to do, anyway.

 _"Liar."_ Shizuo, really; too much at once to take a breath and hang up already. Izaya bets the brute wouldn't let him have the chance now, because the walls are breaking down for Shizuo but his are always up and they'll never be taken down. Not here not now. Fitting to climb over an edge, imagine what his body will look like, spread like a snow angel dimmed with blood on the ground below. A horrifying sight for his humans, but no matter. _"You love the city. And there are no cars that close in the outskirts."_

Izaya heaves a sigh, feeling breathless and tilting forward with the balls of his feet. Air rushes past him in a harsher push and the unsteady feeling has his entire body alive with electricity shooting through every single blood vessel still alive.

 _"Flea, don't you fucking dare."_ Shizuo threatens with empty promises far too often. The sound of a door opening and shutting with loud slams alerts Izaya to the sound of heavy steps bouncing on the other side, climbing into the background of Shizuo's end. _"Stay right where you are, or so help me I'll rip you apart."_

"Why bother, Shizu-chan?" It sounds so uncharacteristic of him but so is the little thing of Shizuo tapping fingers into his hand and giving up the fight for one time, maybe he's been thinking this all wrong and it's just another chance to kill him. Another reason to sway over the edge, adrenaline racing and pushing and pulling him to breathe, breathe, _breathe._

 _"Because I'm the only one allowed to kill you."_ Funny how Shizuo finds out Izaya has interesting tendencies, like standing on the edge of his apartment building late in the night. Maybe the beast knows too much for his own good, or Shinra has more involvement in this than he realizes.

"I'm not going to kill myself, Shizu-chan." Izaya murmurs more to himself this time, eyes shutting carefully when his head tips forward and his right hand trickles with sparks of static beneath the skin between the muscles. "Don't be stupid." Don't be even more stupid, he means.

 _"You fucking dumbass flea,"_ Shizuo rumbles into the phone with a low voice, impossible to let Izaya evade the shudders up his spine from hearing the raw tone—it's an intriguing one, close to the inside of Shizuo which is as far as Izaya can get. _"You hang up on me now, I'll kill you."_

Izaya will have to ask _how_ Shizuo knows what he's doing, but deems it acceptable to figure out later. Maybe some blackmail to Shinra who has helped a few times with accidental drug overdoses when he doesn't pay attention. His work has been getting sloppy, but that's no reason to break doctor-patient confidentiality.

"Shizu-chan cares," Izaya feels lightheaded with headrush and dizzy with the nerve to let go. "How stupidly cute. Like a little puppy that no one could love."

 _"If it's enough to make you shut the fuck up and get down,"_ Shizuo snaps back, footsteps still fast and pounding against road or sidewalk like Izaya's blood sings in his ears, _"then fine. Believe what you want."_

"And what happens if I do?"

Shizuo huffs. _"What the fuck do you want? The whole thing_ _or my fist in your face_ _?"_ Quite an offer, tempting to hear but then again Izaya doesn't think he wants to know what Shizuo has to say and it's just too much for stupid things like feelings and emotions which he doesn't do well with. Process, observe, file for later use. Shizuo is just too stupid and too blunt to have any tact or much less find someone else to bother.

Izaya shrugs to himself, breaths quiet while he pretends to contemplate—but actually is—pretending not to be bothered. Many things are on his mind, as quiet as he wants it to be and he doesn't get much of a chance for silence. "Would be interesting, ne? Hearing Shizu-chan has feelings when you've only been cold to me this entire conversation. I'm almost hurt."

 _"You fucking idiot, didn't I say to get down?"_ Why yes, he does say that many times. It doesn't matter much and Izaya takes that as an affirmative of what exactly he doesn't want to hear. If he does, he doesn't know what the reaction is supposed to be or why Shizuo is exactly bothering with this or anything else and who knows except for Izaya why he's standing on top of a high-rise building. Waiting to let go.

"You haven't given me a reason to." Izaya plays the silly game, waiting for a reaction with a hiss of angry breath and a faster pace of steps.

 _"Hah!?"_ Shizuo breathes hard, making Izaya's lungs crave for more air when his are shallow and light, delicate to not disturb the air that breathes over him. _"How many fucking reasons do you need? Get the fuck down!"_

Izaya shakes his head, ignoring the shiver of air ghosting over his throat. "Fine, fine. Be boring, Shizu-chan." And he plans on wanting to see what the beast does if he bothers to show up, probably halfway here unless if riding with Celty, though he knows the brute to be too imperfectly polite to others.

His fingers clench halfway on pressing the button to end the conversation. Eyes shifting, peering and staring without meaning but losing his thoughts and any trail of logical sense. At one point he even thinks the night air is helpful for clearing a swollen head filled with nasty thoughts, but even now Shizu-chan ruins it all.

Shizu-chan is relentless in getting what he wants, like a monster. _"Don't move, I-za-ya. Don't make me fucking do this."_

Izaya's lips stretch in a wide smile, teeth baring to the heavy clouds overhead filled with no rain tonight. Wondering if Shizu-chan will see by now what happens next.

"Goodbye, Shizu-chan." _It's been fun,_ he decides not to add for a flair of angering the beast.

It doesn't take long for the sickening crunch to reach Shizuo's ears.

**Author's Note:**

> [Now with fanart!](http://www.deviantart.com/art/Goodbye-Shizu-chan-558039239)
> 
> Written in writing style number two: Flesh. Written and completed in two hours, mainly because I've been having a bad day today and needed something to do. Quick question--does anyone care for a sequel?
> 
> See a spelling mistake? Let me know.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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